and to the deck, then the former
hurled it over the side with as much ease as if it had been an oar.

"Let her away now."

"Why, that will run us right into the Long Shoal!" exclaimed Manton,
anxiously, as the squall which had been approaching struck the schooner
and laid her almost on her beam ends.

"I know it," replied Gascoyne, curtly, as he thrust aside the man at the
wheel and took the spokes in his own hands.

"It's all we can do to find our way through that place in fine weather,"
remonstrated the mate.

"I know it," said Gascoyne, sternly.

Scraggs, who chanced to be standing by, seemed to be immensely delighted
with the alarmed expression on Manton's face. The worthy second mate
hated the first mate so cordially, and attached so little value to his
own life, that he would willingly have run the schooner on the rocks
altogether, just to have the pleasure of laughing contemptuously at the
wreck of Manton's hopes.

"But there's not a spot in the shoal except the Eel's Gate that we've a
ghost of a chance of getting through," cried Manton, becoming excited as
the schooner dashed towards the breakers like a furious charger rushing
on destruction.

"I know it."

"And there's barely water on _that_ to float us over," he added,
striding forward, and laying a hand on the wheel.

"Half a foot too little," said Gascoyne, with forced calmness.

Scraggs grinned.

"You shan't run us aground if I can prevent it," cried Manton, fiercely,
seizing the wheel with both hands and attempting to move it, in which
attempt he utterly failed; and Scraggs grinned broader than ever.

"Remove your hands," said Gascoyne, in a low, calm voice, which
surprised the men who were standing near and witnessed these
proceedings.

"I won't. Ho, lads! do you wish to be sent to the bottom by a--"

The remainder of this speech was cut short by the sudden descent of
Gascoyne's knuckles on the forehead of the mate, who dropped on the deck
as if he had been felled with a sledge-hammer. Scraggs laughed outright
with satisfaction.

"Remove him," said Gascoyne.

"Overboard?" inquired Scraggs, with a bland smile.

"Below," said the captain; and Scraggs was fain to content himself with
carrying the insensible form of his superior officer to his berth;
taking pains, however, to bump his head carefully against every spar and
corner and otherwise convenient projection on the way down.

In a few minutes more the schooner was rushing through the milk-white
foam that covered the dangerous coral reef named the Long Shoal; and the
Talisman lay to, not daring to venture into such a place, but pouring
shot and shell into her bold little adversary with terrible effect, as
the tattered sails and flying cordage showed. The fire was steadily
replied to by Long Tom, whose heavy shots came crashing repeatedly
through the hull of the man-of-war.

The large boat, meanwhile, had been picked up by the Talisman, after
having rescued Mr. Mason and Henry, both of whom were placed in the gig.
This light boat was now struggling to make the ship; but, owing to the
strength of the squall, her diminished crew were unable to effect this;
they therefore ran ashore, to await the issue of the fight and the
storm.

For some time the Avenger stood on her wild course unharmed, passing
close to huge rocks on either side of her, over which the sea burst in
clouds of foam. Gascoyne still stood at the wheel, guiding the vessel
with consummate skill and daring, while the men looked on in awe and in
breathless expectation, quite regardless of the shot which flew around
them, and altogether absorbed by the superior danger by which they were
menaced.

The surface of the sea was so universally white, that there was no line
of dark water to guide the pirate captain on his bold and desperate
course. He was obliged to trust almost entirely to his intimate
knowledge of the coast, and to the occasional patches in the surrounding
waste where the comparative flatness of the boiling flood indicated less
shallow water. As the danger increased, the smile left Gascoyne's lips;
but the flashing of his bright eyes and his deepened color showed that
the spirit boiled within almost as wildly as the ocean raged around him.

The center of the shoal was gained, and a feeling of hope and exultation
began to rise in the breasts of the crew, when a terrific shock caused
the little schooner to quiver from stem to stern, while an involuntary
cry burst from the men, many of whom were thrown violently on the deck.
At the same time a shot from the Talisman came in through the stern
bulwarks, struck the wheel, and carried it away, with part of the tackle
attached to the tiller.

"Another leap like that, lass, and you're over," cried Gascoyne, with a
light smile, as he sprang to the iron tiller, and, seizing it with his
strong hands, steered the schooner as if she had been a boat.

"Get new tackle rove, Scraggs," said he cheerfully. "I'll keep her
straight for Eel's Gate with _this_. That was the first bar of the gate;
there are only two altogether, and the second won't be so bad."

As the captain spoke, the schooner seemed to recover from the shock, and
again rushed forward on her foaming course; but before the men had time
to breathe, she struck again,--this time less violently, as had been
predicted,--and the next wave lifting her over the shoals, launched her
into deep water.

"There, that will do," said Gascoyne, resigning the helm to Scraggs.
"You can keep her as she goes: there's plenty of water now, and no fear
of that big bully following us. Meanwhile, I will go below, and see to
the welfare of our passengers."

Gascoyne was wrong in supposing that the Talisman would not follow. She
could not indeed follow in the same course; but the moment that Mulroy
observed that the pirate had passed the shoals in safety, he stood
inshore, and, without waiting to pick up the gig, traversed the channel
by which they had entered the bay. Then, trusting to the lead and to his
knowledge of the general appearance of shallows, he steered carefully
along until he cleared the reefs, and finally stood out to sea.

In less than half an hour afterwards, the party on shore beheld the two
vessels disappear among the black storm-clouds that gathered over the
distant horizon.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE GOAT'S PASS--AN ATTACK, A BLOODLESS VICTORY, AND A SERMON.

When Ole Thorwald was landed at the foot of that wild gorge in the
cliffs which have been designated the Goat's Pass, he felt himself to be
an aggrieved man, and growled accordingly.

"It's too bad o' that fire-eating fellow to fix on _me_ for this
particular service," said he to one of the settlers named Hugh Barnes, a
cooper, who acted as one of his captains; "and at night, too; just as if
a man of my years were a cross between a cat (which everybody knows can
see in the dark) and a kangaroo, which is said to be a powerful leaper,
though whether in the dark or the light I don't pretend to know, not
being informed on the point. Have a care, Hugh. It seems to me you're
going to step into a quarry hole, or over a precipice. How my old flesh
quakes, to be sure! If it was only a fair, flat field and open day, with
any odds you like against me, it would be nothing; but this abominable
Goat's--Hah! I knew it! Help! hold on there! murder!"

Ole's sudden alarm was caused by his stumbling in the dark over the root
of a shrub which grew on the edge of, and partly concealed, a precipice,
over which he was precipitated, and at the foot of which his mangled and
lifeless form would soon have reposed had not his warlike forefathers,
being impressed with the advantage of wearing strong sword-belts,
furnished the sword which Ole wore with such a belt as was not only on
all occasions sufficient to support the sword itself, but which, on this
particular occasion, was strong enough to support its owner when he was
suspended from, and entangled with, the shrubs of the cliff.

A ray of light chanced to break into the dark chasm at the time, and
revealed all its dangers to the pendulous Thorwald so powerfully that he
positively howled with horror.

The howl brought Hugh and several of his followers to his side, and they
with much difficulty, for he was a heavy man, succeeded in dragging him
from his dangerous position and placing him on his feet, in which
position he remained for some time, speechless and blowing.

"Now, I'll tell you what it is, boys," said he at length, "if ever you
catch me going on an expedition of this sort again, flay me
alive--that's all; don't spare me. Pull off the cuticle as if it were a
glove; and if I roar don't mind--that's what I say."

Having said this, the veteran warrior smiled a ghastly smile, as if the
idea of being so excruciatingly treated were rather pleasant than
otherwise.

"You're not hurt, I hope?" inquired Hugh.

"Hurt; yes, I _am_ hurt,--hurt in my feelings, not in my body, thanks to
my good sword and belt; but my feelings are injured. That villain, that
rascal, that pirate--as I verily believe him to be--selected me
especially for this service, I am persuaded, just because he knew me to
be unfit for it. Bah! but I'll pay him off for it. Come, boys,
forward--perhaps, in the circumstances, it would be more appropriate to
say upward! We must go through with it now, as our retreat is cut off.
Lead the way, Hugh; your eyes are younger and sharper than mine; and if
you chance to fall over a cliff, pray give a yell, like a good fellow,
so that I may escape your sad fate."

In the course of half an hour's rough scramble, the party gained the
crest of the Goat's Pass and descended in rear of the native village.
The country over which they had to travel,